Saturday, December 27, 2008
Begin eating mushrooms.
Successfully silk screen a shirt.
Influence popular opinion regarding the current donut situation in the Yellow.
Run 5 miles in succession twice a week by end of the year.
Lose 20 pounds.
Give away 400 CDs.
Successfully silk screen a painting of James Brown.
Do a blog entry each day of June--30 posts total within the month.
Submit to a calendar company, a fully developed idea for The Root Down desk calendar.
Learn to shuffle cards.
Complete six mixes within the year (to include The Gangsta Boogie, The Buhloone Mindstate Breakdown, The Tax-Exempt Federal Income Tax Mix, The Christmas Sweater Mix Vol. 2 and my lovely wife's request for a mix about women).
Wear a full-grown moustache for a week.
Become more knowledgeable in Blues and the key components and players.
Follow up on the whereabouts of Roderick and Sean.
Read a book. Serious. Just one.
Find out what happened to my 10-foot jump shot.
Pass on all fantasy sports. Most specifically Fantasy Baseball. It's not worth the time.
Begin working on family cookbook. Again.
Begin playing harmonica.
Less coffee in 2009.
Cut back soda consumption to one reasonably sized soda a month.
Make my own sauerkraut by rotting cabbage buried under the ground.
Eat the sauerkraut.
Take two one-week vacations. Possibly one to Idaho and then to the northeast catching a Sox game and visiting New York.
Become salty in discussions about 1989 hip hop.
Have a garage sale and use the proceeds to buy a ping pong table to then put in that empty garage.
Go an entire month without sugar or sweets.
Use swimming as a primary form of exercise at the gym.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
The Sox offer was reportedly $168 million over eight years. When Boras went public by claiming he had higher offers for his agent, the Angels bailed out, the Orioles bailed and the Sox claimed they had been outbid and were "not going to be a factor" in the signing of Teixeira. The Sox response was merely to call the bluff on the higher deal. Turns out there was a higher deal and it was from the Yankees. That higher deal was for $180 million over eight years. Now, when you're talking that kinda cash, what's $12 million more? Apparently, the world was in those $12 million and Teixeira has been exposed as a player that, one, wants to take the HOV lane to the championship and, two, money is the most important element of the game. The Yankees knew both of these to be true and customized a contract that would cater to him and assure them in signing him.
Some guy on TV just said that more people die each year from dog bites than from shark bites. That's completely insignificant. How many people have been chased down the alley by a shark? People are morons.
So here we go. After the Devil Rays clowned both the Sox and Yanks by winning the AL East with a quarter of the Yankees' payroll and with the entire world's economy in the toilet, they go out and shell out almost a half billion dollars for three free agents. And that was on top of already having the two highest players in the league on their roster already. And do you think they care that they're basically buying championships again? No way. Shameless. They could care less. And the players don't care either. I don't think the fans care. Not sure. And if you want to pin it on the Sox and they're spending, Sox finished fourth last year in spending and the Yankees spent 50% more than the Sox. Oh yeah, they missed the playoffs last year. Think that has anything to do with it?
I hope they go out and sign Manny. I hope they sign every other free agent on the market. Lock up everyone. If they win a championship, it'll be scrutinized for years. If they don't, they'll once again show themselves to be the biggest failure in the league. Cash rules everything around me. It rules Taxeira. It rules C-note Sabathia. It rules Payrod. It rules baseball.
It'll make watching them lose (even if it's only 30 times) so much sweeter and the Sox finally fall off the Most Hated team. There's still some good bats on the market. It's bats we'll need. Remaining free agents include Ken Griffey, Jr. (eh), Adam Dunn (maybe), Bobby Abreu (maybe) and others. We'll see.
And, if anyone wants to throw the Celtics into the argument for going out and acquiring KG and Ray Allen and winning a championship last year, I'd just add that the Celtics were outspent in 2008 by four other teams this year and last year. And, yes, they're off to the best start in NBA history with a 27-2 start. Domination. We got the Fakers on Christmas Day. It don't mean nothing unless you win in June. Still, it's freaking impressive.
Enough sports talk. Merry Christmas, everyone. Be safe. Love your neighbor.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
That's the move of a cat that's been through this before, nah mean?
What's great is when he comes up the first time, it actually appears that he's smiling like he finds it fun--like it's a game. He certainly doesn't appears SHOCKED which I would. Well, so ends this guy's term. There were some talking heads on last night shaming those who found this funny, but for a country that's endured this cat for eight long years, I don't know if you can blame the American public for finding it somewhat comical.
The year-end list is being prepared. Remember that, this year, you get the best hip hop of 1988. 1988 was a bad ass year. It was the genesis of hip hop's "Golden Age." There's some incredible records that came out that year. NWA, Public Enemy, EPMD, Geto Boys and on and on and on. All the names you know, all the records you loved. They'll all be there.
Shirts are going out to those who requested one. They'll be leaving today. Thanks for your patience.
Think I might be soon pledging my NFL loyalty to the Houston Texans. I don't have a team that I root for and I usually default to the Dallas Cowboys, but let's be real, everyone roots for the Cowboys around here and, many of them are of the white trash persuasion. Somebody's gotta go for the Houston Texans. Kool Aid reminded me that they've already been eliminated from the playoffs to which I replied, "I'm in no hurry. I can wait until next year."
Gotta get to work, folks. Stay up.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
UNWRITTEN DOG PARK RULE #1: If your dogs get into a fight, leave and come back at a later time. If, at that point, your dog gets into another fight, seek training and don't come back for a long time. It's possible that your dog does not want to socialize and is being forced into these uncomfortable situations. I would also suggest cutting off his testicles with garden shears, showing them to him and then throwing them in the alley. That tends to take the edge off of an otherwise aggressive dog.
UNWRITTEN DOG PARK RULE #2: Dogs come off the leashes in dog parks. Leaving them on the leash leads to a heightened level of anxiety and the likelihood of an act of aggression is proporationately increased. Think I'm making it up? Do the math, son.
UNWRITTEN DOG PARK RULE #3: Your Doberman attacks my dog, duke, it might not be my leash that I use to ward him off. I might just punch him in the head with the butt of my hand.
UNWRITTEN DOG PARK RULE #4: Don't crowd the entrance/exit. Walk around deep into the park. It gives the park space and greatly reduces the chance of a fight or scuffle because it prevents crowding of the greeting experience. You'll spot a lazy dog owner by the ones that walk into the dog park and then plant their ass five feet from the gate. The dog park is the size of almost three football fields and they clutch the entrance gate like a kid in the shallow end of the pool.
UNWRITTEN DOG PARK RULE #5: If your dog marks my dog (yes, it's happened), I'll mark you.
In other news, Celtics are off to their best start in franchise history at 21-2. This team is so freaking good, it's scary. Still wish they had James Posey, but the bench is playing well. The East sure has some contenders this year. It would appear that the East is starting to rise again. Cleveland's incredible this year. Orlando, always-dangerous Detroit, Atlanta--they're all playing good ball. Got a sixer of Sam Adams for Celtics versus Hornets tonight. Word 'em up.
To continue with sports talk: it looks like if you lose one game, you lose everything in college football. Understanding that we got murdered at Oklahoma, but Graham Harrell didn't even get invited to the Heisman ceremony. He got to go to Disney World for the College Football Awards, but ended up just shaking hands and getting a little camera time but only as Michael Crabtree took home the award for the nation's best receiver and gave him a shout.
Here are the statistics for Harrell:
4,747 yards/41 touchdowns/71.5% completed/7 interceptions
4,464 yards/48 touchdowns/68.6% completed/6 interceptions
3,445 yards/32 touchdowns/76.5% completed/7 interceptions
2,515 yards/28 touchdowns/64.9% completed/2 interceptions
Not only does he statistically match up with the best in the nation, but he led the Red Raiders to the most successful campaign in school history, led a last-minute drive to beat the Longhorns (the first time that the Red Raiders have beat a #1-ranked team) and then leads a comeback against the Baylor Bears with two shattered fingers in his hand. Dude didn't even get an invitation to the ceremony. For a cat that threw for over 15,000 yards in three years, giving him a pat on the head before awarding him with a career in the Canadian Football League is so freaking awesome. Once again, I side with Leach who claims the "non"-invite of Harrell is just "politics over performance" where Texas, Oklahoma and Florida were all represented, but Texas Tech left off the list in the same way we went from the "sexy" pick all year until we were embarassed in Norman then we fell to a "not mentioned at all." They love you when you're hot.
The big ol' Cotton Bowl for us.
The Yankees continue to court every great player in the league for their 2009 campaign. They got CC and now they're looking at AJ Burnett, Ben Sheets, Jake Peavy and Mark Teixeira. Some one needs to tally up their potential payroll for a starting lineup. I'm sure it's incredible. It never ceases to amaze me that the Yankees will always attempt to basically buy their championships. I can't say that the Red Sox haven't been guilty of a bit of the same, but bargains like Pedroia, Paplebon, Ellsbury and Youkilis help disspell that attachment. That's a farm system, folks. Something the Yankees know very little about. Whatever. Something's gotta give and it always will. Their dream lineups that they've been throwing out there year after year are showing diminishing returns and Jeter and PayRod are only getting older. Amazing that despite their efforts, PayRod still has no championship.
Sox don't want Varitek back, but they make an offer just to appear fair to their captain. I know alot of people hoping he doesn't take it. Mark Teixeira would mean losing Mike Lowell who won a World Series MVP in 2007 only to possibly end his career sitting on the bench with injury. Lugo for Eric Byrnes makes good sense to me, but as a fourth outfielder (see bottom right)? Maybe we get rid of JD Drew too and trade him in for some pitching to replace the now not-so ageless Mike Timlin. At least we still have Youkilis at either first or third, Bay, Papi, Beckett, Paplebon, Ellsbury, Drew and reigning AL MVP Dustin Pedroia coming back as the the youthful core. But it's gonna take some bats to compete against that Yankee pitching.
Is hip hop dead? I don't know but if it means anything, probably the worst records of the year were turned in from Common and Kanye. I mean, they're straight butthole. I wanted to say I just wasn't in the mood, but listened to them later and, yep, still suck. Either hip hop is dead or I'm just out of touch. Maybe both.
The name of the game is Funkadelic. I recommend some for everyone.
Saturday, December 06, 2008
I was going to wait until I had more time...like next year. But turns out that I was just too anxious to hang on to this material for another year. So, I present to you a gift much bigger and better than any year-end list that I could possibly assimilate (although, I'm still considering doing that). It features everyone from Lawrence Welk to Eazy E, Paul McCartney to Atmosphere with, of course, a few treats in between. And, because not all of my friends believe that all words are equal, I edited it with Hanna Barbera sound effects so you'll feel more comfortable playing it around your parentals. Tis the season for alot of things, but certainly not the season for rampant expletives. It just bums some people out. Yes, I edited Eazy E. Love me or hate me, it took about two hours to edit that song alone. Hope it's worth the wait. De La Mix Vol. 2 is gonna need a little more time. At this point, it's next year. Anyhow, here's the tracklisting on the Christmas Sweater Mix. Roll your mouse over this right here to download. Check out this beast:
Booker T & da MGs "White Christmas"
MC Chris "Effin' Up My Christmas"
Darlene Love "White Christmas"
The Firm "Phone Tap (instr.)"
Lawrence Welk "Our Winter Love"
Princess Superstar "I Hope I Sell Alot of Records at Christmastime"
Paul McCartney "Wonderful Christmastime"
Canibus "Get Retarded (instr.)"
Gil Scott-Heron "Winter in America"
MCM "Chris Kringle Was a Black Man"
Clarence Carter "Back Door Santa"
Run DMC "Christmas in Hollis"
Amos Milburn "Let's Make Christmas Merry, Baby"
The Fugees "Zealots (instr.)"
Hard Rock "Christmas Bells"
DJ Kool "Let Me Clear My Throat (instr.)"
Wham "Last Christmas"
The Rap All-Stars "Last Christmas"
Blind Lemon Jefferson "Christmas Eve Blues"
Scoopy "Scoopy Rap"
Atmosphere "If I Was Santa Claus"
The Emotions "What Do the Lonely Do at Christmas"
Coldcut "Christmas Break"
Jimmy McCracklin "Christmas Time"
The Flirtations "Christmas Time is Here Again"
Dr. Dre "Still D.R.E. (instr.)"
MCM "Xmaz N Da Hood"
Vince Guaraldi "Skating"
The Pharcyde "Runnin' (instr.)"
James Brown "Santa Claus Goes Straight to the Ghetto"
Derek B "Chillin' With Santa"
Blind Authur Blake "Lonely Christmas Blues"
Wu Tang Clan "C.R.E.A.M. (instr.)"
James Brown "Signs of Christmas"
Ike and Tina Turner "Merry Christmas, Baby"
The Staple Singers "Who Took the Merry Out of Christmas?"
MCM "Ebony's a Scrooge"
Dana Dane "Dana Dane is Comin' to Town"
Booker T & da MGs "Winter Wonderland"
Spyder D "Ghetto Santa"
Jimmy McGriff "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town/White Christmas"
Sweet Tee "Let the Jingle Bells Rock"
Eazy E "Merry Xmas"
Black On White Affair "Auld Lang Syne"
And I don't care what anyone says, that "Auld Lang Syne" is the very best version ever recorded. Thanks to the good folks at Light in the Attic for giving Black On White Affair to the people. They're mad dope.
Oklahoma smeared Mizzou to take the Big 12 Championship. I'm with Coach Leach in that they should've broken the three-way tie in the Big 12 South with the graduation rate of the school's football team. That would've put Tech on top at 79%, Texas at second with 50% and then Oklahoma at dead-last with 46% of their football team actually graduating. I mean, they're supposed to be student athletes right? Just proves that Oklahoma goes for strictly athletes and not academics which is why they're so powerful. They're basically a minors for the NFL whereas Texas Tech is true collegiate experience where academics are not only encouraged, but enforced. Whatever, though, brains don't make good television and sponsors wanted Oklahoma to go because they'd be a more entertaining football game...I mean, if you consider a 40-point lopsided victory entertaining. Of course, in the spirit of full disclosure, a Tech player got arrested in Lubbock for slanging cocaine downtown last week. Awesome work, dude. Rep us well.
Dude, why do all college players these days look like they're freaking 30 years old? They look like pro players. These are supposed to be dudes that, more or less, just turned drinking age, right?
Who knows what'll happen next year at Tech. Crabtree says he's thinking about staying. His dad says he's already made the decision to go pro. Leach is interviewing with Auburn, Washington, the San Diego Chargers (?). Tech offered him a 5-year contract. Harrell says that Leach is probably going to leave. Geez, all these headlines. We'll just wait until the dust settles from the Cotton Bowl.
Kris, got your shirt request. Unfortunately, I don't have any baby sizes so either put on weight or let me try some creative shrinking tactics. Sarah, you too. I'll do my best. Clint, I got you covered.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
This weekend, while in my hometown of Lubbock, I had the pleasure to enjoy a real donut at Krispy Kreme. It had been quite a long time since I've had such an opportunity because, well, the Yellow location has been shut down for quite some time. That's because pesky local donut slinger Donut Stop basically pulled out the "local" card in their negotiations (demands) with gas stations and grocers suffocating Krispy Kreme's off-site business and forcing them to close their doors. Public perception is that Krispy Kreme simply couldn't keep up with the quality of Donut Stop donuts, but truth is, the local Krispy Kreme franchisee was a little green and failed operationally. It certainly wasn't the donut.
There's overwhelming rallying behind a local donut shop that prides itself on keeping jobs in the community and puts the emphasis on pleasing the customer with "the production of a superior product, store cleanliness, and a friendly atmosphere." First off, their product sucks and is really only a donut whereas Krispy Kremes are far superior as the entire United States has made perfectly clear. Krispy Kreme's donuts have a standard of excellence that has been long-standing and their donuts are far beyond even the best local competitor. There are few in the entire nation that can claim a better donut than Krispy Kreme and, to their credit, it's taken them years to dethrone the champ. One such donuteer is not poured-from-a-bag Donut Stop in Yellow, Texas. Their icing is the same that put on birthday cakes and the donut itself dries out after an hour in the box. Krispy Kremes can be warmed up to greatness a week after purchase. And while they claim a clean store, I'll take fast service over cleanliness any day of the week. My lovely wife waited in line for twenty minutes one Saturday morning at Donut Stop. Their locations are complete chaos and so poorly run. They couldn't manage a line of five hungry customers so you can imagine what Saturday mornings are like. People in this town tolerate such incredible garbage service. Krispy Kreme's lines flew with a methodical and fluid management of both house and drive-thru business. You can start at the backdoor and be through the line in ten minutes tops. Not only that, you get a free donut just for standing there. Donut Stop's coffee sucks. Krispy Kreme's coffee is magnificent.
This truly brings up the paradox of this community. They'll insist that no outside competitor with a better product come in and take the local donut business and muddah's will be up in arms over this, yet (YET!) they're talking about building another Wal-Mart which ships entire industries overseas. That'll make five Wal-Marts in a community of only 150,000 people. But we buy our donuts local. B'lee dat. 7-11 wouldn't stand a chance in the Yellow because there's Toot N Totums on every street corner yet when a chain restaurant opens up in this town, the whole town shuts down and descends on that place like zombies. Most recently, it was Cheddars. When that place opened, people turned into col' morons. You would've thought they were handing cash. They did the same thing to freaking Furrs Cafeteria. But we still buy our donuts local. No room in the donut game for a better product. Some cats don't even know the difference between Donut Stop and Krispy Kreme because they've only ever had a Donut Stop donut. Let me set it straight:
KRISPY KREME'S ARE FAR SUPERIOR
I found this interesting video on YouTube of Donut Stop. Funny how they bit the entire Krispy Kreme schtick with the "how it's made" point of view for the customer. It's so played. Check it out--they even feature the fountain drink machine. Note the empty tables too.
I'm thinking about taking up my own silk screening so I don't have to shell out the kinda cash I just did for shirts in the future. I think I'll start with this shirt. I'll sell them for the same price as a dozen donuts at Donut Stop. People shouldn't even be eating donuts anyway because they're horrible for you, but I'll say this, if you're gonna take the plunge, do it right: eat Krispy Kremes. People in this town should demand quality, excellence. Not just what's available. And if Donut Stop wants to come at me for use of their logo, I'll insist they pay U2 and Interscope for use of "Beautiful Day" on their promo reel.
We gotta take the power back and it starts with this right here. In fact, once I print them up myself, I'm going to walk right into a Donut Stop just to use their restroom and then complain about the cleanliness.
Sometimes, you just gotta take it into your own hands because your community and their politics failed you.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
I'm heading down to Lubbock--center of the college football universe--this weekend to see my beloved Red Raiders pull off the most unlikely of results to this season. OSU will beat OU. A&M will beat UT and the Red Raiders will hang an Abilene Christian output on Baylor beating them 93-20--leapfrogging over both OU and UT into the Big 12 Championship and then mercilessly pounding Missouri on their way to the National Championship in Florida. Really, we just need for Oklahoma State to beat OU. If that happens, we win the tie against UT because we beat them in the head-to-head and we'll win the Big 12 South and play in the Big 12 Title game. There's still something to salvage from this season. You bet.
The shirts are ready, my friends. Again, five bucks a pop if we do it hand-to-hand. If I gotta mail it, it'll be seven bucks. I sold seven of the fifty yesterday so they're moving fast. I got plenty of larger sizes because, let's face it, you can shrink a XXL, but you can't fit a fat man in a medium. Ever. I gotta say, the shirts look so freaking dope. I have a varying sizes, configurations (long sleeve and short sleeve), colors and two different designs. And that price is $1.28 below cost because I like you cats and know times are hard. You can barely get an undershirt for five bones these days. Holla atcha boy.
First road block in the De La Buhloone Mindstate mix: I can't find the original sample of the guitar in "Eye Patch." Hopefully, this doesn't lead me on a White Lightnin' hunt. I can't afford another one of those chases. One sight says it's Lee Dorsey. Another says it's the Meters. It ain't either because I've heard both of those songs. I'm 7% finished though which, in terms of completion, that's an insignificant number. Just say I haven't started because that's more accurate.
Keep smilin', homie. Life's pretty nice.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
It's perfect blend of Parliament, Meters, Donald Byrd and others is the perfect backdrop for a young and carefree Del to spit his lyricism over. In its original form, Brother George is a hip hop classic. Slow...it...down, however, listen deeper and what's evident is that it's definitively a funk record and a damn good one at that. The mix, while shorter than previous mixes, explores the funk roots of this incredible debut record. Nod ya head to this. Link below the cover art. Tracklist below that.
1 P-Funk All Stars "Pumpin' It Up"
2 Del "What is a Booty?"
3 The Monkees "Zilch"
4 Del "Mistadobalina (Remix)"
5 Del "Mistadobalina"
6 Parliament "(Gloryhallastupid) Pin the Tail on the Funky"
7 Del "Wacky World of Rapid Transit"
8 Donald Byrd "Street Lady"
9 Parliament "Colour Me Funky"
10 Del "Pissin' On Your Steps"
11 Funkadelic "I Bet You"
12 Del "Dark Skin Girls"
13 Ralph McDonald "Jam on the Groove"
14 Del "Money for $ex"
15 Marva Whitney "It's My Thing (Part 1)"
16 Del "Ahonetwo Ahonetwo"
17 Del "Ahonetwo Ahonetwo (Remix)"
18 Parlet "Help From My Friends"
19 Del "Dr. Bombay"
20 Hot Chocolate "You Sexy Thing"
21 Del "Sunny Meadowz"
22 Parliament "P-Funk (Want to Get Funked Up)"
23 Parliament "Rumpofsteelskin"
24 Del "Sleepin' on My Couch"
25 Average White Band "Your Love is a Miracle"
26 Del "Hoodz Come in Dozens"
27 Del "Hoodz Come in Dozens (Remix)
28 The Meters "Same Ol' Thing"
29 Del "Same Ol' Thing"
30 The Meters "Rigor Mortis"
31 The Bar-Kays "Jiving Around"
32 Del "Lil' Crumbsnatchers"
Harrell possibly lost his Heisman, Crabtree lost his. National championship out of the question. We'll get the big ol' Holiday Bowl. Everything flushed in one night of nationally-televised football. Oh well. So goes it. BCS giveth, BCS taketh away. At times like this, I look to Scott Hall to pick me off the ground and say, "Hang in there, kiddo, there's always next week."
Friday, November 21, 2008
One of those instrumental records in my past is Del's I Wish My Brother George Was Here. This ish blew my mind. To be honest (and I only ever am), it was like my first funk record. I was about 14 years old and I didn't even know what Parliament or Funkadelic was. James Brown did "I Feel Good" and Sly Stone was, uh, I had never said that name in my life. Del's first record was basically how I got into funk. Even though it was definably hip hop, there was an element to his first record that was immediate and severely addictive. As I grew older, it was that one of those records that never aged. Maybe because in 1991, it was already about twenty years old because it was comprised of a bunch Parliament/Funkadelic records. I remember unfolding the cassette liner notes in front of me and checking the credits for which song sampled who. Names like "G. Clinton" were prominent in the liners. I didn't know who "G. Clinton" was and wouldn't for years until I could finally put a first name to him..."George"...the front man of some of the nastiest funk masterpieces ever to hit the globe. This is George. And, yes, is the Brother George Del is referring to.
Admittedly, just putting a name to Mr. Clinton was not a full understanding of his musical accomplishments. That would come much later. I'd say it was about 1999 when I purchased a used copy of Funkadelic's Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow that I was completely hooked. It was a sickness. If you're reading this, you're catching me admist a, roughly, 20-month funk binge. You name, I've listened to it. I've completely immersed myself in it and it's been among the greatest musical periods of my lifetime. But as I spiral outward, I always come back to where it started. When I was working on the second De La mix, I was listening to "I'll Stay" by Funkadelic as I was mixing it down and I was completely hypnotized. Also equally distractive was listening to Parliament's "The Placebo Syndrome." I then went heavy into my back catalog and started listening to Funkadelic records. I listened for hours on end up at work and decided, as a break from my De La project, I desperately needed to go back and give the same treatment to Del's first album. It made perfect sense because, essentially, it's one of the dopest funk records that hip hop has ever made. I was talking to Owen today and was floored when he told me he never really listened to Del. It made no sense to me. I thought everyone had heard Del's first record because I'm so out of touch. In Owen's defense, I think Wish My Brother George only scanned like 300K which, back when the music industry was healthy, that was a mediocre place on Soundscan. These days, that's a good as platinum.
So, here I am, on a Friday night with a cold six pack listening to Del and George Clinton in an otherwise empty home except for two sleeping beagles. My lovely wife's out of town which leaves me to hours of endless listening--for better or worse. I've already mixed down through, uh, at least "Dr. Bombay." Can't remember. I ask you to be on the lookout for the mix. It'll be done before the end of the weekend. I'm pretty positive of it. Here's the album cover. If you don't see it in your local record store, it proves that the industry is completely lost and retail is dead. Have no fear, though, I'll have a version of it ready for download along with the original samples.
Had a pretty positive experience throwing my two De La mixes and Cypress mix up on Okayplayer.com. Music heads must really check it out. I've been posted for, geez, close to nine years. Man, nine years. Of course, I only post about ten times a year. A few cats were extremely complimentary of the mixes. Funny, how close to 350 people downloaded the De La Soul is Dead mix in two days and yet Danny still hasn't downloaded the 3 Foot mix because he's on dial-up and it keeps timing out on him. I like my friends. I do.
Kelvinmercerlookalike, glad you enjoyed the mix. I'll try to keep up. Day job, married with two needing beagles and a number of unresolved tasks both at the office and homestead. It's tough. But these hours are crucial. I'm at a creative flex and I can go to bed when I want because the lady's away.
Man, this OU/Tech game has officially twisted my stomach into a sheet shank. Alot of cat's think that Tech stands a chance. I think they stand better than a chance. In fact, chance ain't got nothing to do with this game...it's skill, homeboy. We got the best passing offense in the nation and OU's pass defense is 90th in the country. Mike Leach has surprises that haven't even been imagined yet and Stoops is known for blowing big games. Gotta love our odds.
Not that I don't give OU their due. They're freaking #5 in the country and I still haven't gotten my "hands around" (love that phrase) Tech being #2. Wait, you're telling me that we're going into Sooner Country and OU is looking to upset? So, we're better than OU? Bizarre. Not quite as bizarre as Mike Leach doing the weather on local Lubbock television. Real pimps call the weather. Whaddup, Ron Roberts?
That's all you get. Back to Funkville. I love you. I sincerely do.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
That White Lightnin' record was worth the hunt. You think about what I went through to get that sample, I really think that I wasn't intended to find that. Firstly, I spend about seven days looking for any information on the group come to find out that I'm looking for White Lightning and not the correct White Lightnin'. Then, while hunting for the song "That's No Lie," I find out that not only is it not available digitally, it's wasn't even pressed on CD. Vinyl only. I find two copies available for purchase. One is domestic and costs only $25 including shipping. Dude takes about a week to ship it. Get it in only to find that the record's been lacerated with a box cutter and, awesome for me, the scratch goes right through "That's No Lie." After being converted to digital, it ain't even in an acceptable file type. But it's over now. This mix is ready.
And now, I present to you, The De La Soul is Dead Mix. Get ready for the thongs. Tracklisting and cover art below for your usage. Almost 60 tracks mixed seamlessly (well, sorta) timing in at just under two hours of De La Soul is Dead mayhem featuring Bob Marley, Parliament, Funkadelic, James Brown, Frankie Valli, Stevie Wonder, Serge Gainsbourg, Lou Donaldson, Aerosmith and, of course, De La Soul plus many others. Get yo' fix, son.
Monday, November 17, 2008
So, we walk in to this huge space and I'm just gawking at the place because it's so insanely badass. It's this huge, dimly lit ballroom, a little dusty with these huge portraits on the wall of Bob Wills, Eddy Arnold and others. I'm just taking it in while the Plain White T's play another song off their new record that no one knows. I'm starting to watch the crowd and it dawns on me how incredibly sad this whole ordeal is.
The Plain White T's blew up around "Hey There, Deliliah" and, what happens when you write a song that basically exceeds you, people stand around with their arms crossed, sipping Pepsi all pissed off because you'll play everything in your reportoire except (and only except) the song that basically put you on the map. Hell, if they played it first, no one would've made it to the third song. Here they are playing to a bunch of radio winners--in fact, probably only a handful of kids paid to see that show. The owner's pissed because I was the only cat that bought a beer in probably the three hours they were open that night. You got some pissed off cat with his kid who just celebrated her sixth birthday sitting there yelling at Plain White T's, "Play the only song we know!"
To the Plain White Ts credit, they stuck to the gameplan. They didn't give in at all. They sat there and mowed clumsily through their set and their new songs knowing that knowing was paying any sort of attention. It was probably the most painful thing I've ever witnessed. Tom, the lead singer (Wikipedia, kid...Wikipedia), kept laughing between songs uncomfortably saying, "How about another song off the new record?" which was met with absolutely no applaud. Like he heard two thousand kids yell, "Hell yeah! Play something off the new record!", the band dives right into another song. Reality is he's dancing around on stage while only about 150 kids stand there in a pool of their own drool as their legs begin to bend and loosen in their excrutiating fatigue. After about two more songs, Tom salutes the crowd and says, "Tulsa, thanks for having us. Good night." They dash off stage.
And, yes, you guessed it, they come back out in like ten seconds. Seasoned performers wait like, at least two beers before hitting the stage again. Not the Plain White Ts. Like they couldn't wait to get it over with, the come bouncing back to the stage with guitars in hand and now these kids know they're gonna get what they're due.
A song about California.
At this point, you feel like the place is about to erupt. I'm thinking some kid just consumed in angst is going to burn the place down waiting to hear the Plain White Ts play "Hey There Latifah." Even Tom's getting edgy dropping the F-bomb on these poor kids. You can tell this gig is getting really old for him. It's like playing hard to get with the crowd and it's so juvenile and tiresome. The crowd is basically begging him (short of hopping on stage and playing "Deliliah" their damn selves) for one request so they can go home and he's like, "Ah wait, now. I got a song about the dentist office. I got a song about Canadian architecture in the 1920's." And, while tonight, he's trying to prolong his glory, he's trying to do the very same thing to his career. Just two more songs. Just two more songs.
You know, you'd think the dude would be grateful. I mean, how many dudes can claim they have a song that was number one in like twenty-something countries? If I were him, I'd come out and do fifteen different versions of "Deliliah" in under thirty minutes and then I'd bail. I'd do it for about a year, quit, own a pony ranch or t-shirt company and die happy and rich. Artistry just gets in the way. It's okay to pimp yourself. Everyone does it in the music industry.
He finally goes into "Hey There Deliliah" rather uncerimoniously. I would've been like, 'Alright, you morons, here's the freaking song you wanted to hear. I'm going to play it once and only once. You sit there and sing along like good little kiddies because it overwhelms me with a distinct feeling of accomplishment that otherwise I would not get to enjoy because I've failed at everything else in life. Sing along. Smile. Sway from side to side. Here's "Hey There Deliliah."' But no, he just goes right into it with barely an intro. I got near the door because as soon as he reached the middle of the song, I knew we'd need to split to beat the mob of kids sprinting out of that place. An interesting experience indeed. Cain's was badass. Would love to see Atmosphere there. Apparently they played there a couple of weeks back.
The next morning, we hit up Phill's just south of downtown where I feasted on two eggs covered in Tabasco, five slices of bacon, two helpings of hash browns, a biscuit and gravy and about six cups of coffee. I'd eat breakfast at every meal if it was available.
Before we hit the Corridor of Colorful Roadkill, we were still committed to hitting a few antique stores to see what we could find for the TV. We hit this district south of Tulsa where I picked up a Barry Manilow record and a Beach Boys record. No cabinet however.
We hit the highway, got suckered by Subway's $5 footlong offer only to find out the club is not included. Chow. Proceed to Weatherford. We see a billboard outside of Weatherford about an antique store. We hurry knowing that, on Sunday, if they're open, they're about to close because it's about 4:30PM. We hurry into this place and find the perfect piece with only five minutes to spare. It clears the back of the Honda by a fraction of an inch, but it fit. So we got the TV, the cabinet and the new Blu-Ray player in place all before Monday morning. Oh yeah, got the old Nintendo in too. Came to tears when I played Baseball Simulator 1000 on the wall.
Work always sucks after a vacation, but George sweetened it up by dropping off the introductory fitting of Sun Ra albums. Will get into that soon. Also, I got the freaking White Lightnin' record in. Tucker was first to listen to it. Am looking to get it converted to mp3 tonight and finish up the mix this evening.
Got to repair the track though once in digital form because the chump that I bought this from didn't let me know that he let his two-year old play with his vinyl. There's a huge ass crevace down the B-side of the record and, yes, it goes right through the one track that I spent $25 to get..."That's No Lie."
Regardless, I can work with it. Be on the look out for the De La mix. I'm listening to it right now and it's uncut dope.
Alright, The Root Down fans and readers, shirts are being made this week. They will cost you only $5 ($7 if needing to be mailed) and that's losing about $2 a shirt. It's a steal. Dude, I need to get in the freaking t-shirt business. They make some profit, geez. They were shocked when I asked if I got the screens when they were done. Whatever. They were nice, but I just don't trust their costs are equal to their output. We'll see.
I'm ready to make my prediction on the Tech game this weekend. Tech will win 56-45. Some cat online predicted that Oklahoma would win 47-37. I wasn't so confused by why he picked Oklahoma, but why he picked us to score 37 points. That's five touchdowns and a safety (safety not being likely) or four touchdowns and three field goals (three field goals even less likely). And he calls himself a sports writer. Dude, do you research. All you have predicted is suspect.
Stay up, folks.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Did they survive addiction? If not, did they survive rehab? Sometimes I think of what in the hell we're going to do with all of these aging rappers? Well, what did we do with all of the womanizing cokeheads from the early 80s? I guess, it's pretty much the same answer--it just works itself out. Except for Steven Adler. He's the fallout of that era. Anyway (raising mug of coffee), here's to Steven Adler. You're a badass. I'm rooting for you. You're a little creepy, but still dope.
Going to see Amos Lee with my lovely wife this weekend. The cat's pretty nice on record so I'm expecting good things. Still waiting on my copy of White Lightnin'. I could've just re-recorded "That's No Lie" by now. Once I get it, the De La Dead is done. Dude's straight slipping. He said he sent it on 11/11.
As you might have guessed, I'm up early. And I'm listening to Funkadelic's Uncle Jam Wants You. Your days are half lived.
Thanks to Q at Traffic for the huge box of goodies. I got some research to do. Along with KMD's Bl_ck B_st_rds and MF Doom's Operation Doomsday which were both repressed again, exhaustedly, he sent some Masta Ace side project, some Esoteric goodies, a killer comp of Yeshua, TUFF CREW (holy cow!) and some cats out of the mid-90's Boston hip hop scene...their name escapes me right now. I gotta say, I don't know what I'd do without Q's promos. They get me through sometimes.
Interscope pushed 50 Cent's new record to 2009 after touting it as the biggest record of the fourth quarter. I guess it doesn't really surprise me, but it just sucks at a time when the industry is looking for that hit to hang a hat on. Guess the hits just won't do it and dude's are gonna just have to hustle for that cash. Guess artists are just going to have to make quality records the way we used to. The industry's getting pinched hard right now. Every industry's getting it. Only the strong will survive. The weak will become the kindling the strong use to warm their green tea over. One thing has never changed: you never take anything for granted and you work your ass off for your keep. Ain't nothing handed to you.
Looks like my lovely wife and I are finally taking the plunge on a new TV as a Christmas gift to ourselves. I'm looking at the Sony 46". She likes the Sony 40". Eh. I'd be happy with either, but I'd be six inches happier with the 46". Wait, that didn't sound right. She blessed me passage to purchase it early in time to watch the Texas Tech game next weekend on the new TV. She's awesome. I also think the earlier the better because the 500 lb TV that we have right now is about to demolish the entertainment "center" it sits in. I'm serious, I can visually see the thing leaning from about eight feet away. I'm having nightmares of waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of a rhino falling through our house and then coming out to discover that our TV finally won the battle and turned a piece of furniture into sawdust. The new TV would not even weigh 50 pounds. That's incredible. I bet this thing we have weighs 150 pounds. I won't even be able to sell it. I'll have to pay someone to haul it off like a 1980 Hyundai.
Still too early to throw my score out there on the Tech-Sooner game, but my father-in-law said that if it's dry, Tech will win. If there's weather, Tech will lose. Still wondering what that means aside from if you take the offenses out, maybe, that Sooners stand a better chance. I'm seeing a few more cats picking Tech to win this thing.
Whatever. About to hit the road in, wait, we're not going anywhere for another two hours. Man, I've been up forever.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Just an update, I don't believe anything Governor Palin says. I never did and probably never will. Anytime she opens her mouth, she's dodging something.
Shirts will be done soon. I feel like I'm being taken on screening costs after I did all the design work and already purchased the shirts. Once I work out the costs, we'll move forward with printing. Just cool off. In time, my friend...in time.
That's all you get today because I don't feel like typing.
Monday, November 10, 2008
When driving home from a West Texas A&M flogging over Tarleton State, 51-0, I get hit with an attack. My eyes basically begin to shut while I'm doing about 65 MPH up I-27 in thick traffic. I'm not really sure how we made it home. Oh, West Texas A&M hosts Central Washington in the first round of the Division II playoffs next week. WT's number nine in the country. Not too shabby. Only in West Texas is it necessary to clarify in your "Tailgating Guidelines" that ATVs, dirt bikes and firearms are prohibited. I imagine there's many other things that are prohibited (like helicopter stunts, juggling flaming bowling pins), but interestingly enough, these were the only things strictly mentioned.
Once we get home, my lovely wife decides that I'm going to a doctor, but reluctant to do it that night because the Texas Tech Red Raiders were scheduled to bust out a whooping on the Oklahoma State Cowboys, the last place I wanted to be was at the doctor. I won that one.
In the morning, under excrutiating pain at this point, my lovely wife drives me to a "Urgent Care" which, oddly, these places usually fail to provide anything urgently or any act that could be considered as care. When we arrive, my lovely wife, who just successfully battled the same ailment with doses of a steroid and some eyedrops prescribed from her doctor, asserts to everyone that she knows what I need because she had the same symptoms and was successfully treated just weeks earlier. Pretty simple game plan, I believe.
You would've thought we were asking to get prescribed heroin. It's like everyone was looking at us like, "Eh, I don't know. Maybe I can offer a second opinion." My wife would say:
Look, I'm telling you what he needs because I just recently had the same thing happen to me and my opthamologist prescribed Pretnisone and some eyedrops. I took both for three days and, miraculously, I was cured by taking the medication prescribed to me.
"Eh, despite your testimony, ma'am. I'm going to have suggest something else. It's a horse tranquilizer and hourly punches to the groin."
We ended up leaving with a prescription as requested by my lovely wife who now moonlights as a urgent care doctor. She's really good. On the recommendation of the "physician" (and only on the recommendation of the physician because you know my ass would never do so), we went to Wal-Mart to get our prescriptions filled for $4 a piece (for a total of $8). Pretty chancy, I felt. From a guy who vows to never buy anything that's living, once lived or supposed to live from Wal-Mart, here I am now trusting them with my health. We walk in and I mistaken the arcade for the pharmacy.
Not alot to celebrate because, let's face it, Mondays suck. I'll keep you posted on the side effects of the steroids I'm on. Right now, I'm watching a mouse eating scraps in a dumpster fifteen miles away on a dirt road. Yeah, baby, Greatest American Hero style.
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Women flock to his shows for a chance with Sam. The band gets the scraps. I mean, check this fool out. The girls, the girls they love him!
Sometimes you have to worry about the (c)ling-ons. One night after a long and enduring alcohol binge, Sam spilled his guts to a woman named Karen and, touched by his honesty and emotional volatility, she began attending every show thereafter hoping for a chance to relive the magic of that evening. It's kinda sad when I think about it, but girl doesn't really see it as sad. She lives in a fantasy world where Sam is her Eddie Money rocker boyfriend. She swears that everytime he plays "Wonderful Tonight," it's a dedication to her. She's a sport. Never passing up a chance to pose for a picture.
The sad reality, however, is she's one in a long line of women that wraps around Oklahoma seven times of hearts (or hienies) that have been pinched by Sam and the boys of Badly Bent. They share stories at shows of late nights with Sam on at the end of the bar. Some exchanges even turn violent and end up in fisticuffs. The women, geez, they just sit around like hungry rats looking for the scraps to fall. Like these two who hide out in a dark corner of the bar hoping to blindside Sam during his break and throw him in the back of a F-150, take him to their trailer, strap him to a bed, break his ankles and make him sing Garth's "The Dance" to them acapella for hours into the night. Dude's gotta look out.
Sam's saavy enough though. He can talk himself out of almost every situation and, even better, he talk anyone into anything. Take, for instance, the sad case of Mary. Another dingleberry who simply can't quit Sam, her suspended emotional state is that of a small girl smitten with summer love. She's been attending Badly Bent shows for the last five years. Meet Mary.
One night on the outskirts of Stillwater, Sam popped off at his sound guy because he passed out at the boards during "What's that Smell" by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Sam walks off the stage and smacks the cat with he heel of his hand, breaking his nose and ruining his reputation as a soundman in every county in central Oklahoma. Here he is, not but fifteen minutes into his set and, without a soundman. Scanning the bar for someone to sit in and turn the knobs for him, he sees Mary sitting there with a water in hand. Knowing she's gonna be at all of their shows anyway, he figures why not just put her to work? So he did and she's been the soundwoman ever since. She gets paid nothing for her assistance. Cold, Sam. Really cold.
Here we see a fairly normal sight at a Badly Bent set: people embracing each other softly. The lovers can't help it once the guys dive into their set.
Sam's not above going into the twenty minute version of "Wonderful Tonight" to lengthen the lovefest on the dance floor. Sam usually scans the dancing couples looking for a subtle wink or eyebrow flutter over the shoulder. It's usually enough to queue the band to, "take it one more lap around the track, guys." Sam's never going to stand in the way of a guy's pursuit of drunk, smelly and smoky poolhall love. I mean, come on, it's how rural Oklahoma keeps the birthrate up.
Another way to keep the rural Oklahoma birthrate up was letting former guitarist Mike wear his tank top. He'd have to fight off the ladies with the heavy end of his Squier. Unfortunately for thousands of mothers and expectant mothers, he never did. Another reason he didn't really work out as a guitarist. It's one thing to have hundreds of single and hot women show up at a show to sway back and forth mouthing the words to "You Are So Beautiful" staring longly at the band with tears in their eyes. It's another thing to have a hundred pregnant women standing there (sometimes with their husbands) delivering ultimatums and occassional ass-whoopings.